You know how to make a point: You know how to make a point and you don't believe in pulling punches. I get that. Sometimes one needs a sharp-witted, edgy, fearless, devastating wake-up call. Jarringly brilliant.
This galloping, intense and: This galloping, intense and very identifiable expression has great potential, and being the innately gifted poet you are, you can certainly tweak it into an even more engaging work of art.
As someone who kicked off the boots of metered verse decades ago, I almost don't feel qualified to analyze your rhyme scheme, but it was something that played an important role in my experience with this poem, so I'll go ahead and give you my impressions. Don't think I have anything against metered verse, in fact, I greatly admire the old masters and anyone today who can meld thundering eloquence with delicate musicality as you did here.
I first noticed your internal rhyme in the first five lines, giving the impression of a forceful yet natural pulse, like a heartbeat. This really clicked, considering the wrenching emotions, but it seemed the lines that packed the greatest punch were those with perfect rhyme and meter.
Not that all slant rhymes are an abomination. My first literary crush, W.B. Yeats, used them, but you have to use your own inner ear, sense of rhythm and intuitive voice to tell if they work. Some of your lines are dynamic and savagely beautiful because of the symbiosis of impeccable meter, rhyme and substance. For example:
"Father time grows older, The empty space grows colder"
And these traditional lines that sing:
"I am here but you are there
stuck in the yesterday of her atmosphere"
(Slanted, but it works!)
The sixth line began a tercet followed by a couplet that had the feel of a chorus, and it made me imagine this as a song. An amazing song. As a separate stanza, this could be majestically emotive. In the words: "I cannot reach you now,/ I don't know how" there's a heart-crushing descent. It's perfect.
My suggestion would be to go into an almost meditative state and truly listen to the entire poem and then polish it accordingly while retaining, as much as possible, the brilliant phrasing. This is something you have to do for yourself, and I'm certain the results will be stunning because this was a delight to read and dissect. I hope I didn't overstay my welcome.
My sincere respect and admiration.
Can I quote you on this?
A: Can I quote you on this?
A wonderful witticism that knocked me over with its truth. One to have on hand if you're trying to defuse a rabid, yammering hothead who needs to just chill for a second and realize that opposing positions are part of the deal if you want a true democracy . . . or a healthy relationship.
Great stuff. You rock!
This is a lovely poem..: This is a lovely poem. Judy and John. From your description I truly believe they were deeply in love with other. It brings to mind a couple I know. They also have been deeply in love with each other for many years, though I highly doubt they have ever consummated their relationship, not that there's anything wrong with that. You may be familiar with them. Here's a story I found online about both of them. They're not Judy and John, they're...
https://people.com/politics/donald-trump-motorboats-rudy-giuliani-in-drag-in-unearthed-sketch/
This is the kind of poem that: This is the kind of poem that will haunt the reader with the most poignant emotion for some time after the final word has been read and the reader has moved on to something else. Later, some random word or phrase, in another poem or in some classic novel will suddenly give way to the power of this poem in the reader's memory. The last three stanzas are particularly dramatic, the more so for their very quiet tone.
I wish I could give you…: I wish I could give you an intelligent answer, but my knowledge in this area is limited. I'll have to defer to Groucho Marx, who famously said:
'Well, art is art, isn't it? Still, on the other hand, water is water. And east is east and west is west and if you take cranberries and stew them like applesauce they taste much more like prunes than rhubarb does'.
I hope that answers your question.
I love that painting: What do you think? Is it right for such art, when not owned or gifted directly by the artist themselves, to be in the hands of any one man or home?
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